


Interlude 1

by jurassicparker



Series: South Of Sideways [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls, Dream Sex, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Texting, angry flirting, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jurassicparker/pseuds/jurassicparker
Summary: Set between Chapter 1 of South Of Sideways, Day Off, and Chapter 2, Happy Mediums. Reading the first chapter is heavily suggested! Don't let the scary red signs on the left turn you off - Only one chapter is explicit, the rest should be rated T.





	1. Text Of Love And Rivalry

**6:54 pm**

Hey there

_ Hey yourself! _

What’s up

_ Not much, what’s up with you? _

Not a whole lot

Youve got good grammar

_ Thanks. I’ve always wanted to be an author. At this point, it’s a habit. _

Oooh an author! What kind

_ Writing about paranormal stuff. Ghosts and monsters. They’ve always interested me. _

That makes sense seeing as you fight them on a daily basis

_ Write what you fight, that’s my motto. It even rhymes! _

Your a poet

_ Not what I was expecting to be, but there’s worse things to be. _

Like what

_ A stage magician. _

Fighting words

_ What’s it like? I mean, you must be busy all the time. _

Its actually a lot of fun

Like i get to saw Dipshit in half once a week so thats cathartic

_ I bet. So do you two not get along? _

We argue a lot but other than that we do fine

Hes usually mad that i beat him whenever we spar

And whenever we play sports

And whenever we have to talk to people in a way that doesn't involve staring threateningly at them

He gets mad a lot

_ Yeah, he doesn’t have much in the way of physical talent, huh? _

Dont tell him that or he’ll rip your lungs out

Hes still more athletic than most people

I’m just more awesome

_ What I don't get is how you could create portals and fly and all that cool stuff. _

Sorry but I made a rule to not put out until the third date

_WHAT?!_ _No, not like that-_

Put out information

What did you think I was talking about

_...nothin. _

So how are you and your cousin

Her name was pacifica right

_ Yeah. You and her would get along. You’re both energetic, and you're both athletic enough to kick me and Dipper’s collective butts. _

Yeah but there is one thing different

_ Like what? _

I am not clearly head over pink sweater in love with Dipshit

_ Yeah, she's really bad at hiding it. _

I mean WOW

I don’t get why she snapped like that tho

Is she against love

_ Um, well. Paz has had a… rough life. Her last boyfriend broke her heart and her… it’s not my place to explain it. She’s just a little on edge. _

That explains a bit

So hear me out

You and me

Seven o clock on Thursday

Ace of Clubs Bar and Grill

_ Oh  _

_ Oh my god _

Wow Gideon

All it takes is for a girl to ask you out and your perfect grammar goes out the window huh

_ I mean yes! I will definitely go out with you! _

Cool so its settled

See you then

I have to go, Dipper is yelling for my name

_? _

Don't worry hell be yelling Pacifica’s name soon enough

_ I don’t want to have those images of my cousin! _

Ha ha sorry

He wants me to help him get his bike out of the forest

Talk to you later

_ See you soon! _

 

**11:36 pm**

_ Oh, I almost forgot. _

It is ass o clock at night what could you possibly forget

_ I just wanted to thank you and Dipper. Without you two, I would be dead. _

_ From rainbow farts. _

Don’t mention it

Besides we couldn't let you die from that embarrasing of a way

_ Night. _

night

  
  



	2. After The Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zombie Apocalypse AU. Just something I whipped together.

“So this is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a-”

“GROOOOOAN.”

“Yeah, that.” 

“THIS IS NOT THE TIME!”

Dip slammed his back against the door, straining with effort. “This is the perfect time!” he snapped at Gid. “When else am I going to quote shit like that?”

“WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO BE HAVING THIS ARGUMENT!” Gid shrieked in reply. As if on cue, the thing on the other side of the door tried to break through. Dip held his ground.

“Gid,” he grunted through gritted teeth, “find a barricade or something.”

The already-pale boy’s face went to the color of expired mayonnaise and nodded. He scrambled away, pushing over a desk. Dip quickly grabbed it and set it against the door.

Both of the boys collapsed on the other side of the desk, sliding down. Dip checked his pistol. Two shots left. Gid’s look of despair told him that he was out. 

The banging on the other side of the barricade grew louder.

Dip did a quick inventory check. Lighter? Check. Knife? Check. Rations and first-aid kit? Check. Can-do attitude? Eh, three for four ain’t bad. 

“Tell me,” Dip groaned, “you at least got the guff.”

Gid grinned wearily and held out the test tube. “I snagged it when you were bashing one’s head in with a baseball bat.”

“Good.” Dip felt a bit of pride in his friend’s success. When the outbreak hit two years ago, Gid thought that stakes were used to put down the creatures. Not the wooden kind, either - Dip had found him covered in a meat suit like a cheap Lady Gaga knockoff. Dip had taken pity and brought him back to the other survivors. 

Now he was a survivor. Barely.

The banging grew louder.

They had come to Gravity Falls Elementary School because apparently, someone left a cache of weapons. That had proved false, but there was a flask of repellant, which was always useful. They needed to get themselves back to the camp to properly utilize it, but they were slightly sidetracked by the fact that a zom had tried to eat Gid’s brains. Had it not been for his enormous hair, it would have succeeded. 

“Gid,” he said, “stat check.”

“No bullets, one flare, one guffa zom repel, and a machete,” he replied. 

“We’re fucked, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yup.”

The banging stopped. Dip looked at the door, then at Gid, who shrugged.

_ Knock knock-knock-knock knock. Knock knock. _ “Hello?!” a voice called. “Anyone home?”

“She doesn’t sound like a zom,” Gid said. “Should we let her in?”

Dip responded by moving the desk out of the way and opening the door a crack. He peered out and saw  _ her _ .

She was dressed in what looked like a camouflage sweater. Her cargo pants and combat boots were blood-and-mud-stained. Her blond hair was tied back, and she wore a sixty-megawatt grin on her face.

Dipper opened the door, and she bounced into their lives. 

“Oh thank god, I found someone!” she said cheerfully. “Pacifica Northwest, nice to meetcha. Who are you guys?”

“I’m Gid.”

“Dip.”

“Ooh, are those codenames?”

Dip looked at Gid in disbelief. “How long do you think she’s been out there?”

“Two years,” she replied, never losing tone. “Where are you two heading?”

“We’re trying to go back to our home base, but we’re surrounded,” Gid told her. Dip nudged him. As much as he had progressed in two years, he was still a bit dumb. “What?”

“You just gonna give away our location to anyone who asks for it?”

They both looked at Pacifica. She was currently looking in the mirror on the other side of the classroom and having a staring contest with the reflection. “I think we’re safe,” Gid snarked.

“So what happened to the zom? Did it leave?” Dip asked her.

She grinned mischievously. “Something like that.” She walked into the hallway and tossed something back in. Gid caught it, yelped, and dropped it.

Dip peered at it. It was a decapitated head, cleanly separated at the neck level. “Nice one. What’d you cut it off with?”

Pacifica pulled a double-headed axe out of her sweater. “This bad boy.”

Dip quirked an eyebrow up. “You keep that in your sweater? How do you not impale yourself?”

“Good question!” she answered cheerfully, and then never brought the question up again.

“Is that what I think it is?” Gid said, cowering and pointing at the head.

Pacifica and Dip sideyed each other, then Gid. “What exactly do you  _ think _ it is?” Pacifica asked in the tone of someone asking a three-year-old to do a math problem.

“The head of my old science teacher.”

“Just think of it as a, I dunno, bowling ball,” Dip suggested.

“I think that Bowling Night just got a lot more interesting,” Pacifica cracked. Gid responded by throwing up. “He’s a bit soft.”

“Yeah,” Dip said, almost apologetically. “Normally, I have another person with me, Wen. She’s a total badass, but she’s injured, so I figured I’d bring him along.”

“GROOOOOAN.”

“Was that you?” Pacifica asked.

Dip rolled his eyes at her. “No, but it’s close. We better get going. Come on, we’ll take you to our place.”

With that, he grabbed Gid by the collar and walked out the door. Pacifica followed, bouncing happily. Dip walked through hallways until he found the front entrance and discovered that it was completely flooded with zoms.

“ABOUT FACE!” Dip yelped, and they turned tail and ran. The zoms followed, whooping and snarling. They ran up the staircase and hid in a closet. A flick of the lights revealed a ladder to the roof. Gid went up first, dry-heaving the entire way up. Pacifica went next. The zoms had bashed the door open and were crawling in when Dip bolted up the ladder. 

Pacifica slammed the trap door shut and the three of them sighed with relief. Relief that was quickly lost when, in the falling evening sun’s glow, a single zom attacked. 

Dip dodged right, Gid went left, both yelping. Pacifica flipped backwards nimbly. The zom swung for her and missed, but the axe tumbled out of her sweater.

Dip reached for his knife and pistol, but came up empty. “Fuck,” he swore, “I left them in the science room!” He loosened out his arms and held them up. “Old-fashioned way it is.”

The zom had cornered Pacifica on a corner of the roof. It was a three-story drop. The look on Pacifica’s face screamed that she had no desire to take the express elevator downwards.

Dip charged forward, but Gid was faster. With an unmanly shriek, he leapt onto the zom’s back and forced it away from her. It managed to shake him off, but Dip punched it across the rotting skull, and it backed toward the edge of the roof, stunned. With an Amazonian yell, she delivered a mighty dropkick, and the zom toppled over the edge of the roof. The trio looked over the ledge, and discovered that the entire school was surrounded by zoms.

“Guess we’re spending the night,” Dip said flatly.

-

With a bang and a whoosh, the flare flew into the night sky, a comet of orange and red. Dip blew on the smoking barrel of the flare gun and hoped that the scene had looked as badass as it felt. He walked back over the roof fire, where Pacifica and Gid were already squatted, warming their hands. 

None of them had spoken much after the zom battle. Gid was obviously proud of himself, and Dip was proud of him too. Pacifica was contemplating. 

“So Pacifica,” Dip said, finally breaking the silence. “You’re okay to come with us to our base? It’s a motel in town.”

Pacifica grinned, apparently back to her chipper self. “That sounds good. It’ll finally be nice to be with people that don’t want my brains. The motel’s safe, right?”

“Yeah,” Dip replied. “It’s got fences, steel doors, gun safes, a refrigerator in every room, and it’s got a pool.”

“Well, I can’t say no to a pool.”

A groaning sounds disrupted the conversation. Gid had fallen asleep, a blissful smile on his face.

“So Gid. Short for Gideon?”

“Right.”

“Is he the brainiac of the surviving group?”

“Pfft. He was a genius before the Zompocalypse, but as it turns out, knowing about the Pythagorean Theorem isn’t super useful when your teachers want to eat you.”

“Who knew?” Pacifica said, smiling. Dip grinned, then decided to ask his own question.

“So you’ve been by yourself for two years?”

“Not exactly. My pig, Waddles, was with me for a while.”

“Your only company was a pig? When did it die?”

“Last week.” She sounded a bit teary-eyed, so Dip decided not to tease her about it. “I loved that pig, but it tasted pretty good.”

Dip couldn't help but let a short snort out. She whipped around on him. “Don't laugh! I did what I had to to survive!”

Dip was starting to laugh now. “No, no, I respect that. It’s just… that last sentence pushed it from tearjerking to dead baby comedy.”

“Dead baby comedy?”

“Yeah, you know. Dark stuff. Like, what’s worse than twenty dead babies in one trash can?”

“Oh god.”

“One dead baby in twenty trash cans.”

Pacifica was silent for a moment. “That’s… disgusting. That’s… hilarious.” She laughed a bit. Dip joined her. It felt pretty good.

“So what’s Dip short for? Dipstick?”

“Hah. No, it’s short for Dipper.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t give me that! Your name is Pacifica.”

“Yeah, but my parents were hippies. What’s your excuse?”

“My real name is worse.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It is.”

“Tell me or I’ll wake Gid up.”

“He’s grumpy when he wakes up.”

“Then tell me! Don’t leave me in suspense.”

“...Mason.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “Are you kidding me? That name is awesome!”

“Not really.”

“I mean, with that three-letter-name system you’ve got going on, you could be called Mas.” She pronounced it like  _ mace _ . “That’s awesome! What’s up with the short names anyway?”

Dip shrugged. “It saves time. My grunkle always taught me that time is money. In this case, I guess that time is living.”

“Your grunkle?”

“Great-uncle.”

“You had family before the End?”

Dip was quiet for a second. “Yeah. Two grunkles and a sister.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Eh. One of my grunkles caused the entire fuckin’ apocalypse, so.”

“How?”

“I don’t even know. He was a scientist. Kind of a prick. You have any family?”

“No. Just a girl and her pig.”

They were quiet for a while. 

“The rescue party will be here by morning, right?”

“Should be.”

“So one sleepover on top of a school. There are worse places to sleep.”

“Like where?”

“I spent the night in a fridge once.”

“Sounds cold.”

“It was. Woke up with an icicle in my hair and a zom banging on the door.”

Dip noted that she sounded calmer now. Her voice was soft and her tone was gentle. He wondered if he sounded any different than he had this afternoon.

There was only one blanket left. Dip handed it to Pacifica and curled up next to the dying fire. He watched as she curled up underneath it.

“Night, Mas,” she called over.

“Night, Paz,” he replied.

“Paz?” she asked, confused, but he was already out. “Paz,” she whispered to herself. “I like it. Paz…” 

Pacifica fell asleep with the name on her lips.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit conflicted between an ambiguous apocalypse that was more realistic, an apocalypse where Dipper and Pacifica rode cars in leather bondage gear like Mad Max, or a zombie apocalypse. Hope you like the choice I went with.


	3. Dreamweaver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks. The smut. The sexy times. The big one. The - fuck it, just read it for yourself.

“Gideooooooon,” Pacifica whined. “I'm bored.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Gideon’s disinterested voice echoed from across the room, under a lump of sheets. The lamp was on, and he was writing in the Journal.

“There's no monsters to fight? Nothing?”

Gideon coughed, and a little puff of rainbow-colored dust flew out. He grimaced. “Give it a rest. It’s been two days since the Corgon.”

“But it’s been a boring two days! All I do is fix cars, fix cars, fix cars.”

“You’re getting paid to fix cars, though, aren’t you?”

“What? No. Are you?”

“No.”

“Does this mean that we can call it slave labor? Can we legally sue for that?”

“We are not suing my dad.”

“...well, now I’m REALLY bored.”

Gideon groaned. It was gonna be a long night. He got up to get himself some hot chocolate.

“Bring me some!” Pacifica called after him. “With extra sugar!”

“No one puts sugar in their hot chocolate!” Gideon yelled over his shoulder. “My phone’s buzzing, I’ll be back up soon.”

Pacifica covered her face with a pillow. She didn’t feel like getting up. She mentally went over the monsters she had fought - unicorns, werewolves, werebears, wereturtles (THAT was a fun day at the lake)...

On the thought of the lake, she forced herself to get up to take a shower. Pacifica stripped down and turned the knob. As she sat on the counter, naked, waiting for the water to warm up, the doorbell rang. Then rang again. “Gideon! Door!” Pacifica yelled down. No reply. “Don’t make me get it myself!” Still nothing. Pacifica rolled her eyes and wrapped a bathrobe around her form. She turned the shower off, then walked down to the kitchen. With a look around, she noticed that there was no sign of Gideon. “That’s weird,” she said to herself, and then walked over to the door.

She threw it open, and Pacifica caught her breath when she saw who was on the other side.

Dipper Pines.

Their eyes scanned each other up and down. He wore a simple, red, button-down flannel shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A simple pair of blue jeans adorned his legs, and on his feet were a pair of black basketball shoes. His hair was freshly washed, combed back to reveal his birthmark. His blue eyes shone mischievously in the moonlight. He smelled good. He looked even better.

And Pacifica was standing before him in a bathrobe.

She attempted to cover herself up a bit more as he began their conversation with a genial, “Hey there.”

“Uh, hi,” she replied a bit lamely. She looked around behind him and saw no one else. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, you can, actually,” he said, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. “It would seem that my sister is missing. Any chance that she’d be gallivanting around with your cousin?”

“That seems very likely,” Pacifica sighed. “Hold on, I’m gonna put some clothes on-”

Dipper stepped over the threshold, and suddenly they were extremely close, and suddenly Pacifica realized that he smelled like the ocean from back home, and suddenly Pacifica realized how badly she wanted him, and suddenly Pacifica was even more aware of how naked and vulnerable she was.

And Pacifica realized that she didn’t care less.

Dipper shut the door behind him, not backing down. She saw that he was pleasantly surprised by that fact that she wasn’t either.

They stood that way for a few seconds. Dipper raised an eyebrow. Then she grabbed him by the back of the neck and stood on her tiptoes as he leaned down. Their first kiss was clean. Nice. Pretty.

That wouldn’t do at all.

They met each other again and this time, they stayed together. He put his hand gently in her hair. She grabbed the back of his head roughly. The desire to stay clean gave way to their hunger.

Her aunt had told her to take chances before she left Florida, so Pacifica decided to follow the advice. She flicked her tongue into Dipper’s mouth. He let out a surprised grunt, then followed in kind. They wrapped their arms around each other, completely lost in the heat of the moment. Pacifica nibbled on Dipper’s lip when he drew away. His hand was on the tie of her robe.

“Paz,” he said softly. She looked into his eyes and saw something that she wasn’t expecting in them - timidity. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She simply smirked seductively at him. She slowly walked backward. The tie of her robe, one end still in his hand, came undone, and she stood before him in all of her naked glory. “Does this count as an answer, Starboy?” Pacifica asked, raising an eyebrow of her own.

“Pacifica Northwest,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, “you are full of surprises. I’ll be gentle.”

“Promise me you won’t.”

Dipper grinned at her, and with that, it was all over.

He rushed over to her, and she leaped onto him, wrapping her legs around his hips. Against her crotch, she felt his excitement. _Either he has the keys to his motorcycles in his pocket, or he’s just happy to- oh my god I’m too excited to finish this joke_.

As he nibbled and sucked on her collarbone, leaving marks that wouldn’t fade until the next morning, she unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of him, feeling his well-developed chest rise and fall with each breath. Pacifica felt the air hit her back as Dipper moved. He sat her on the counter. “Ladies first,” he whispered into her ear, and then his face went back to nuzzling the crook of her neck. He trailed small kisses all the way down to her breasts. She inhaled in delight as his tongue circled the tips, then sucked at them, nibbling in a way that she never knew anyone could.

He repeated the process with the other breast, but by that point, she wanted release. Her lips were wet with anticipation. To soothe the impatience he felt radiating off of her, Dipper simply put a finger in just the right spot. With his mouth on her breast and his finger inside of her, Pacifica threw her head back and gasped softly. Then he moved on past the breast, moving his tongue down, getting on his knees, down past her navel, down-

She breathed in deeply again. His tongue lazily circled her lips as she folded her legs around his head, keeping him entrapped. Dipper zeroed in on the sweet spot, and this time, Pacifica could not stop herself from crying out as she rode the high, chasing it. She laid back on the counter and unwrapped her legs from Dipper’s head. Dipper stood up, cracking his neck, as he watched her spasm happily from the pleasure. When she opened her eyes, Pacifica saw him smiling and silently laughing.

“What?” she demanded with no real venom in her voice.

“Your O-face, Blondie,” he snorted, “is truly something to behold.”

“Oh really?” she challenged in a far stronger voice than what she felt right now. Pacifica found her footing and stood up next to him, breasts pushing against his chest, a flirtatiously pouty expression on her face. “Yours won’t be much better.”

He cocked his head to the side, the stars on his forehead aligning. “Is that a bet?”

“Believe it,” she whispered into his ear, and then took his hand and dragged him upstairs. Pacifica threw open the door to her room and pulled him in. Dipper already had his belt and pants off and was now struggling with his undergarments.

“Allow me,” Pacifica purred, and pushed him against a wall, one hand on the back of his head so their lips could devour each other some more, one hand down his boxers. She ran her hand up and down his shaft, which was about as big as she thought it would be. Not that that was a bad thing, by any stretch. She loved the sound of his whine. Dipper pulled away, breathing hard. “You…” he panted. “You are surprisingly aggressive.”

“You have no idea,” she said, then pulled him over to the bed and pushed him to his back. She slowly slid the boxers off of his legs and crawled on top of him. She sat down on his hips. “You ready, big boy?”

He nodded, and she lowered herself onto his shaft. Pacifica felt it fill her up almost completely, and she grinned as she began to thrust her hips rhythmically. He groaned and leaned back. Pacifica wrapped her arms around his waist and began moving faster and faster. She leaned forward and bit hard on his neck, not stopping until she was sure that there was a bruise. Dipper rested his hands on her ass and moved with her, both together as one unit, one unit working faster and faster.

Pacifica felt it first. It was slowly building at first, then rushing on her all at once. She took one last look at Dipper, noting with some satisfaction that his face was also fairly embarrassing, before closing her eyes.

Yes, she felt it now. Building up inside her core-

Faster now-

Faster-

About to explode-

And

And

And

And then she sat bolt upright, her brow sweaty. She looked to the bed next to hers and saw Gideon fast asleep.

 _It’s not like I dream about him at night_ , she remembered indignantly telling Gideon a few nights ago.

She sighed and sat back, resting her head on a pillow.

“Uh oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, disclaimer - if this seems unrealistic, sorry, but my only research was conducted solely on the internet. I write sexy fan fiction of cartoon characters, for God's sake, you think I have a lot of experience with the opposite gender?


	4. The Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica Northwest has entered the Falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys. I've come down with a bad illness known as I-Don't-Want-To-Writeus. Plus, I was still kinda weirded out about the whole last chapter. Don't plan on doing an explicit chapter ever again. Anyway, enjoy.

“This seems like the right place,” Pacifica told herself as she looked around. Fifteen minutes ago, her plane had landed in Portland International Airport, and she was standing next to the baggage claim, stretching her legs out from the five-hour plane trip.

Pacifica looked down at the note again. It had her aunt’s slightly-schizophrenic handwriting, looping all over the page, and it smelled like sea salt and dead fish.

Smelled like home.

_ First cross-country trip, yay!  _ it read.  _ Hope you get there safely. Remember who you’re looking for - my brother, Bud, is enormous, and he said he’ll be wearing a bright-pink shirt. He’ll have your cousin with him. Between you and me, you’ll probably see his hair before you see the rest of him. I mean, really. It’s taller than he is. He could store food in there or something. _ Pacifica snorted at the thought. 

_ Remember what I showed you about fixing cars - I have no doubt that Bud will put you to work. Heck, he might even let you see the gift he’s fixing for you. Always remember that I love you. Your uncle does too. Priscilla would be so proud of you. _

_ Love always- _

_ Aunt Jo _

Pacifica smiled as she put the note in her pocket gingerly. She definitely would miss Florida, but she was going to enjoy her summer.

“What is  _ that _ ?” a voice from next to her said, astonished. Pacifica looked at the conveyor belt and saw her suitcase. It was bedazzled in pink, purple, red and white sequins from the wheels to the handle.

“That would be mine,” she told nobody in particular as she walked to it and snagged it. Pacifica looked at the voice. It was a dude her age, blonde and generically handsome. His ponytail was about the only thing interesting about him, other than his socks. They were neon green and bright orange. “Nice socks!” she said cheerfully as she pulled the handle out of its sheath and walked away, wheels rolling behind her.

At least the guys were cuter in Oregon than they were in Florida.

_ Stop it, _ she scolded herself.  _ I didn’t come here for a summer romance. _

As Pacifica walked to the gate, she looked around for a familiar face. She hadn't seen her relatives since Thanksgiving when she was twelve. Had they changed much? Okay, dumb question, of course they had. 

“MIZ NORTHWEST!” a voice echoed from across the pavillion. She turned and grinned. Bud was, in fact, wearing a pink T-shirt with the Rolling Stone’s logo emblazoned on it. He had shaved his beard and was beginning to lose the hair on top of his head. Gideon was riding on top of his shoulders, and Paz saw that her aunt was not kidding about his hair. Enormous and white, the pompadour jiggled like Jello.

Gideon and his father had matching Cheshire-Cat grins, and Gideon held a large sign that made Pacifica die a little bit inside -  _ WELCOME BACK FROM PRISON, PACIFICA!  _ it read in rainbow Sharpie, with a metric ton of glitter applied. It attracted several bewildered stares. They both had spotted her, and the grins on their face went from simply megawatt to blinding levels of brightness. Bud picked Gideon off of his shoulders and set him on the ground. With a delighted yell, he threw the poster to the side and ran over to Pacifica. He hugged her in a vice grip, and Pacifica returned the gesture, laughing, “Hey, cuz.” She was promptly swept off her feet when Bud reached them, swinging her around. Bystanders scowled and moved out of the way of the overjoyed reunion.

Eventually, Bud set her down and took a good look at her. “Holy cow, princess, you’ve grown!”

“That tends to happen when you get older, Uncle Bud,” Pacifica teased playfully. “What happened to the beard?”

Bud unconsciously ran a hand over his jaw. “Started to look a little too much like someone from the Old Testament,” he replied, grinning sheepishly. 

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Looked like Santa Claus had come to the Falls,” he said. “Good to see you, Paz.”

“You too, Gid.” He had changed his clothing style from a few years ago - where he had worn polo shirts and jeans that were a size too small for him, he now wore comfortable-looking cargo shorts, an orange T-shirt and a blue vest. His glasses had disappeared back to the unholy depths they had came from - they had been black, thick-rimmed and made his eyes look like a frog’s. Now, a rim of light green surrounded his pupils. Contacts.

As she followed them out to the parking lot, the sign abandoned on the floor and her suitcase trailing behind Bud as he held the handle, Pacifica wondered how much she had changed. Her clothing style had stayed the same. Her enormous sweaters, shorts. She had grown her hair out; Pacifica shuddered at the thought of the bob she wore when she was twelve.

Mentally, though, she was different. In hindsight, when she was twelve, she was manic. Always yelling, always running around, always acting strangely just because she could. Now, she was calmer. She still liked to cut loose, but she could have normal conversations now. The accident had sobered her up. John had done it even more. 

_ NO. I am not going to think about John once while I’m here. _

Thankfully, that distressing subject disappeared from her head when they walked outside. Goosebumps immediately sprouted on her flesh, and she mentally congratulated herself on wearing a sweatshirt. “It’s cold up here,” she said out loud. “Goodbye, tan.”

Bud checked his phone. “It’s only seventy,” he replied. “How hot is it in Florida?”

“Very.” The conversation stopped in its tracks when Pacifica caught sight of the car. “Is that-” she gasped in delight.

“Yup,” Gideon said smugly.

“With a-”

“Yup.”

“Did you-”

“Paz, just go look at it yourself.

It was a 1980 Camaro, painted hot-rod red. Pacifica dashed over to it and began inspecting it, walking around with her mouth agape.

“Told you she’d like it,” Gideon told his dad, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Hey, Paz! I’m thinking burgers, you in?” Pacifica managed to peel her eyes off of the car for thirty seconds to nod enthusiastically. “Stop Eleven?” he suggested to his father.

“Sounds good.” Bud hauled the suitcase up with a grunt and a comment about the multitude of sweaters it contained. He got into the driver’s side. 

Gideon held the passenger side door open for Pacifica. “After you.” Pacifica noted that there wasn’t a backseat, so she would have to be crammed in between her cousin and her uncle, neither of which were particularly small people. Pacifica sucked in a breath and her gut and squeezed in. Gideon hopped in, and off they went.

Bud was notorious for being a speedster around the Falls, always trying to get somewhere as fast as he could. Gideon was impressed when he went exactly the speed limit all the way down the highway. About two hours later, they pulled off an exit and drove into the parking lot of Stop Eleven Burgers And Tenderloins.

“What’s a tenderloin?” Pacifica asked as they got out of the car, voice raspy from belting out the entirety of the only Led Zeppelin album Bud owned. Bud and Gideon gaped at her, and five minutes later, she was seated at a table, moaning happily from the pork tenderloin she had devoured. 

“You’ve really never had a tenderloin?” Gideon asked, looking up from his cheeseburger.

“Nah, in Florida,” she replied cheerfully, “we have to hunt iguanas for food.”

Bud snorted through his double bacon burger. “What happens if you can’t kill any?”

“We starve,” Pacifica said darkly, before her and Bud shared a cackle at Gideon’s horrified face. 

“So what’s the plan for the summer?” Gideon asked, throwing his cousin a dirty look.

“Well,” Bud replied, chewing his burger, “I’m planning on giving you and your cousin the next two days off, but after that, I’m putting you two to work. Paz, have you studied anything about cars?”

She nodded. “I’m still learning, but at least now I know the difference between the transmission and the engine.”

“We’ll start slow and go from there. Soon, you’ll be building your own car.”

“Sounds like a blast, Uncle.”

“No no no, if you’re living in my house, you’re calling me Bud. Saves time.”

“You never let me call you Bud,” Gideon complained.

“That’s because you’re my son and I’m allowed to bully you a little bit. Alright, get ready, we’re about thirty minutes away from the Falls.” Bud stood up, brushed off the crumbs, and lumbered his way to the bathroom.

Pacifica and Gideon looked at each other and rolled their eyes, grinning. Pacifica looked around and saw a familiar face. “Sock Boy!” she gasped.

The blonde guy turned around, and his eyes widened in recognition. “Weird Girl!” he said, grinning a bit. “You seem familiar!”

“You too. You live in Gravity Falls?”

“I’m a native, yeah. Maybe I could show you around town sometime?”

Pacifica was about to consider the offer when Gideon leaned around and saw who she was talking to. “Sock Boy? It must be Gabe.”

Gabe saw Gideon and his handsome face turned into a scowl. “You.”

“Yeah, me.”

“How’d you ever get out of the girl’s locker room we shoved you in? Did they ever stop throwing tampons at you?” His scowl turned into a sadistic grin.

Gideon wasn’t fazed. “How’s the new puppet coming along?” he asked. “What was its name again? Cela-something?”

Gabe’s eye twitched. “I'll have you know that the kids love Celestabellebethabelle.”

“What, exactly, is happening?” Pacifica asked. “Celestawhat?”

“I run puppet shows for the kids at the library,” Gabe explained, a smug smile growing on his face.

“That’s nice of you.”

“He also makes out with his hands,” Gideons stated flatly.

Gabe reddened. “I do not!”

“Hey, man, I’m not judging. You’re prolly better off doing that than making out with a body pillow. But you don’t do that, do you?” Something had come over Gideon as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk.

Gabe took a step forward, hands clenching. “I can’t believe this,” Pacifica sighed, and took a step between the two. “You, pretty boy,” she growled as she poked Gabe in the chest with each word. “Stay. Away. From. My. Cousin.”

His red face turned white. “You’re his cousin? How? He’s a midget, and you’re…”

“What am I?”

“Uh, well…” He was clearly trying to find the least perverted way to say  _ pretty _ .

“What I  _ am _ is about to kick your butt between your ears if you don’t do the smart thing and leave Gideon alone. Capisce?”

“Uh…”

“Do you capisce?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I capisce.”

“Then get gone, Gabe.”

With that, he walked out the door, shooting an I’m-watching-you glare at Gideon, before getting into a car and driving away, tires squealing.

“Nice save,” Gideon said, relieved, but his cheerfulness faded when Pacifica whirled on him with murder in her eyes.

“And  _ you- _ ” She pointed furiously at him. “What was that about?! Since when do you start fights with people?!”

“I didn't start anything,” Gideon claimed defensively. “I know this jackass, Paz. If I don't strike first, then he’ll rip into me. You heard him. I don't want to spend another two hours in a locker room with a sports bra on my head!”

“So that’s what you do now? You pick fights?” Pacifica had calmed down a little bit, but the fire in her eyes was still smoldering. “What happened to you?”

“I got smart, Paz. Out of all the bullies at school, he’s the one that I’m least worried about. He makes out with his hands, for God’s sake. It’s the bigger fish that scare me.”

“Bullies?” By now, all of Pacifica’s anger towards her cousin had dissipated. It was replaced by a cold nervousness for Gideon. “Like who?”

“There’s one named, Tyler, he’s a bigger guy. Jared, he just graduated but he thinks he’s cool…”

Gideon went on like this for the better part of two minutes. Pacifica’s eye started twitching in a way that Gideon did not like at all. 

“That’s… a lot of bullies,” she said when he was done.

“But there’s only one who scares the everloving crap out of me. His name is-”

“Dipper Pines!” Bud whooped as he slammed some paper down on the table. Pacifica looked closer and saw three blue slips. “And his sister Mabel! Just got tickets to their magic show from some random guy in the bathroom.”

“You what?” Pacifica raised an eyebrow, but Gideon quieted her.

“Some random guy?” he asked. “What’d he look like?”

“Eyepatch, blonde, cool jacket.” Bud shrugged. “He looked trustworthy enough.”

“Dad,” Gideon said, putting his palm to his face. “Seriously. What did he ask for as payment?”

“The soul of my very being,” Bud answered in complete seriousness. Pacifica and Gideon gaped at him before his stone face turned into a grin. “Kidding, you two, lighten up. Fifteen dollars.”

As Pacifica let out a relieved sigh, Gideon frowned. “Let me get this straight. A random dude with one eye approached you in the bathroom and sold you tickets to the world’s most famous two-man magic show for fifteen dollars.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And  _ none _ of this sounds strange to you?”

“Nope.”

Gideon sighed apparently used to dealing with his father. “Alright, what time is the show?”

“Four hours from now,” Bud read from the tickets. “We should get Pazzy unpacked. We can consider this her vacation present.”

“Sounds good, Bud.” Pacifica was elated. She had always had a soft spot for magic.

As they made their way out the door, the eye on the wall that had been watching them disappeared with a small chuckle.

 

Pacifica’s first experience with the paranormal began about a mile past the sign that read “Welcome To Gravity Falls! Population - 667”. Pacifica noticed that the population number was a bit anticlimactic. When she told this to Gideon, he said, without looking up from his phone, “Give it an hour or two. Befufftlefumpter’s gonna bite it any day now.”

As Pacifica watched out the window, she noticed a tiny… something. It had a bright red cap that looked as sharp as a spear, and it was about a foot tall. It looked at her and hissed angrily, showing fangs. “What,” she said flatly, and frantically tapped Gideon until he looked up. “Gideon, is there an active midget community in Gravity Falls?”

“Yeah, there is, but they prefer to be called ‘little people’,” Gideon said. “That’s a gnome. I recognize that one, that’s Phil. He tried to bite off my finger a week ago.”

“A what?”

“You don’t have those in Florida?”

“ _ No _ , we don’t have mythical creatures in Florida! We just have rednecks.”

“Eh, close enough. Ooh, watch this.” Gideon rolled down the window and yelled, “Yo, Phil!” The gnome glared at him. Gideon stuck out his middle finger. The gnome withdrew in offended shock.

“Aww, now you hurt its feelings,” Pacifica noted.

“I'm not worried.”

“Gid,” Bud chided lightly, “what did I tell you about provoking the gnomes?”

Gideon sighed. “That it’s demeaning and insensitive.”

“No, it’s because they'll form a gnome Voltron and try to kill us.”

“Dad, I think that we’re kind of springing this on Paz,” Gideon said, and gestured to Pacifica, whose mouth was hanging open and eyes were wide. “Okay, so crash course. Monsters are real.”

“I got that part,” Pacifica said smally.

“Good! Why they’re here, I’m not sure, but compared to the townsfolk, they seem normal.”

Bud snorted. “Ain't that the truth.”

As they coasted into the gravel driveway of the Mystery Shack and Auto Repair, Gideon continued. “Most of them are dangerous, and the ones that aren’t are straight-up weird. Like there’s, get this, a Leprecorn! Like it’s half-leprechaun, half-unicorn.”

Pacifica moved past her shock pretty quickly. “Okay. So monsters exist. Cool. Explains the crap out of the six-legged lizard I found on spring break.”

“Nope,” Gideon replied as he hopped out of the car. “That’s all Florida.”

Pacifica thought about being offended, decided that his comment was fair, and followed him out, grabbing her suitcase.

The gift shop that served as the front entrance was filled to the brim with “doo-hickeys, thingamabobbers, and whatchamacallits,” according to the sign. Ridiculously expensive doo-hickeys. Pacifica picked up a shirt that had a panther on it. “Fifty bucks?” she asked incredulously.

“People will buy anything,” Gideon explained as he passed a shelf with toothbrushes on it. 

“Behold,” Bud said proudly as he unveiled his latest creation, “ El Pedo Mojado!”

It was a stuffed muskrat with devil-like horns glued to the top. “It’s… something, Bud,” Pacifica managed to say nicely. “Where should I put my stuff?”

“You’re bunking with me for the summer,” Gideon explained as he led her up the stairs. “Two beds, you’re on the right side.” He opened the door to a room on the right side of the hallway, and there was the room. 

It was a nice room, fairly nondescript. The two beds were on opposite sides of the room. The roof was sloping inwards, making the room almost triangular. The solitary window was a circle, and bright light shone in from outside. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone to unpack-” Gideon started to say, but Pacifica simply put her suitcase on the floor, unzipped it, and flipped the top open.

“Unpacked,” she announced. 

“Living out of your suitcase? Bold choice.”

“Fortune favors the bold.”

“The bold don’t last long around here,” Gideon told her, his face stony and serious. Suddenly, he looked older. “Look, Pacifica, I need you to always keep a lookout. Monsters are everywhere, and I’m the only one who knows how to fight them. So just… just stay safe, okay?”

Pacifica looked into his gray eyes and saw that he wasn’t joking. So she nodded solemnly. “I promise.” 

There was a shatter downstairs, followed by hissing and screeching. Gideon and Pacifica looked at each other. “That didn’t take long,” Gideon said, rolling his eyes and sighing.

Pacifica ran into the hallway and down the stairs before her cousin could stop her. The stained-glass window had shattered, and climbing through it was the gnome from earlier. It gave a threatening hiss and lunged at her...

… only to fall about six inches short of her ankles. Pacifica rolled her eyes and kicked it into the stand that held the Pedo Mojado up. With a squeal, it picked itself up, only to get clobbered on the head by the stuffed muskrat. Pacifica reached to her right to grab whatever crappy souvenir was placed there, and picked up a grappling hook. It was probably made of cheap plastic, but it was better than nothing.

As the gnome rushed at her, gibbering angrily, she tucked the gun into the pocket of her sweater and picked it up like a puppy, holding it at arm’s length. “Aww,” she cooed, “you’re kinda cute, aren't ya?”

Phil the gnome responded by biting her on the hand. “Ouch!” she yelped, and punted it like a weirdly-shaped football. Its rear end landed on the devil horns of El Pedo Mojado, and it bounced in the air like a cartoon character, screeching in pain. Pacifica, with the speed of a gunslinger, whipped the grappling hook back out and fired. The hook smacked the gnome square in the middle, launching it straight out the broken window.

“Nice shot,” Gideon complimented mildly. He had seen the entire thing. “Guess I don’t have to watch you as closely as I thought.” Pacifica grinned at the compliment.

“Do gnomes try to break in often?” she asked.

“About once a month,” Gideon replied as he looked out the window. The gnome was scrambling back to the woods, whooping in fear. “That’ll teach him for a little bit.”

Bud entered from the door that Pacifica assumed led to the garage, wiping his forehead. “Why did Phil the gnome just get thrown out a window?”

Gideon pointed at Pacifica. “Her fault!”

“That window was already broken!” she protested. Bud simply rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, they break the window quite a bit. It’s dirt cheap, I’ll get Melody to install another. Okay, the show starts in an hour and a half, so start getting ready.”

“I call first shower!” Pacifica said. Gideon groaned and made her promise to not take forever. Ten minutes later, she was in the shower, belting out a song. “ _ Should I stay or should I go now?” _ she yelled, not caring about whether she was good or not. “ _ If I go there will be troublllleeee… and if I stay it will be doublllleeee…”  _

There was a knocking from the other side of the bathroom door. “If you stay in that shower, it’ll definitely be double!” Gideon called. “Get a move on!”

Humming, Pacifica dried herself off and walked to her and Gideon’s room. She got dressed and walked downstairs, only to find Bud in a nice suit, freshly shaved. Gideon was currently attempting to tie a white tie, dressed in a godawful baby-blue suit. “Am I underdressed?”

They simply gawked at her. She was wearing a bright purple sweater that said “Meow You’re Talking!” with a picture of a cat emblazoned on it, and a pair of jeans that were almost white with use. “Yes, Paz,” Bud replied. “You are a little underdressed.”

“Ooh, I could wear my tuxedo sweater! It’s black and it has little pictures of mini tuxes on it, it looks super fancy-”

“Dad,” Gideon said, ignoring her, “do you think she could fit into one of Mom’s old dresses?”

Pacifica stopped her rambling and felt a little panicked. Her Aunt Jean was, in Bud’s own words, a big beautiful woman. Pacifica was… not. She could have probably worn a parachute and it would have fit better than anything that her Aunt Jean wore.

Thankfully, Bud picked up on the problem. “Nah, she looks fine the way she’s dressed now,” he said. “Let’s get going, we’ll be late.”

As they loaded into the car again, Pacifica looked out and saw a gnome glaring menacingly at the house.  _ That’s not a good sign _ , she thought to herself as they pulled away.

Downtown Gravity Falls was pretty typical - general stores, a few diners, and some shops. Almost everything was painted blue, which Pacifica didn’t really understand, but that thought faded from her mind as they pulled up into the parking lot of the Tent of Telepathy. It was an enormous teepee-looking building, its conical shape pointing straight up into the sky.

They got in line, and Pacifica was once again aware of how underdressed she was. The men were dressed in fancy tuxedos, and the women were wearing colorful dresses. Almost every tie was blue, she noted. Bud handed the tickets to a pimply teenager, and they were promptly admitted into the lobby. 

“It’s a lot bigger on the inside,” Pacifica whispered to Gideon, who started humming the theme song to Doctor Who. Pacifica snorted. They passed a poster as they made their way into the main stageroom. It was black, except for two pairs of glowing blue eyes, and the only two words on the poster struck her. 

**TRUST US.**

Staring, transfixed, at the poster, Pacifica didn’t look where she was going and promptly ran into a man. Compared the others, he was also underdressed for the event, wearing a bright red polo shirt and white shorts that were  _ way _ too tight and showed off  _ way _ too much hairy legs. “Sorry!” she yelped.

The man turned, almost robotically, and stared at her. Pacifica was creeped out until the man smirked, said, “Meow You’re Talking. Nice,” and walked off.

“That’s Poolcheck,” Gideon explained. “He’s… out there.”

They took their seats just in time. The lights went out, leaving them in pitch-black darkness, and from nowhere, a guitar started playing. It was an alt rock song, and it seemed almost psychedelic. “Doctor,” the singer crooned, and on cue, a light shone in the back, revealing a person in a doctor’s smock, with a surgical mask covering his face. Pacifica only saw brown hair and blue eyes.

“Look into my eyes,” the singer continued, “I’ve been breathing air but there’s no sign of life…” The blue spotlight flickered for half a second, but the figure had already disappeared. Gasps filled the auditorium. Another light on the other side, closer to the stage, snapped on, and the boy was underneath it, this time with a syringe in his hand.

“Doctor, the problem’s in my chest…” The singer’s voice was deep and light, tenor and alto, totally alien and utterly familiar. Pacifica racked her mind, but couldn’t think of anything. She nudged Gideon and asked what the band was, and he replied with “Cage the Elephant”. 

“That’s a weird band name.”

“It’s a weird band.”

On stage, the light shined, and a girl with flowing brown hair was standing there, ramrod straight and eyes unfocused. “My heart feels cold as ice, but it’s anybody’s guess…”

The light flickered yet again, and suddenly the boy was right beside the girl, syringe pointed at her neck. The girl was suddenly entangled in a straightjacket that hadn't been on her before. “Doctor, can you help me ‘cause I don’t feel right, better make it fast before I change my mind, Doctor can you help me ‘cause I don’t feel right, better make it fast before I change my mind…” The singer was fast now, and as the song picked up with more instruments, the light flickered again, just as the boy swung downwards with the syringe. It was only for half a second that the light went off, but when it came back on, the boy with the surgical mask was in the straight jacket, and the girl stood next to him, smiling devilishly.

The singer kept crooning words, but Pacifica lost interest. She watched the two as the light flickered and they kept appearing in different spots on the stage, the straightjacket alternating between the two of them. Finally, the spotlight settled on the two of them together in the center of the stage, and the music slowed down. The boy had on the straightjacket, and he seemed to be struggling to escape it. “And as the darkness falls, it fills up both my eyes,” the singer crooned slowly. “My life before like a flesh, in the night, with my arms, open wiiiiiide…” The lights went out completely, except for the boy’s glowing blue eyes. The guitar built up, and then the power cords kicked in, and on cue, the boy  _ exploded _ .

Blue flames completely disintegrated the jacket, and the boy brushed ashes off of his shoulder. He was wearing, instead of a doctor’s uniform, an electric-blue waistcoat, with a black cape billowing in wind that seemed to come from nowhere. Around his neck was a medallion that glowed with a sea-green light. Pacifica couldn’t make out much of what he looked like, so she focused on the girl, who was stepping up to the forefront of the stage as the song ended.

She was dressed in a blue blouse and had black tights underneath a short blue skirt. Her earring was the same color as the medallion. She had apparently decided to forgo the cape. Her chocolate hair fell down to her waist, and her grin was welcoming, but mischievous.

**TRUST US.** ****

_ Yeah, no. I don’t trust anybody in a cape. _

“Hello, Gravity Falls!” she boomed cheerfully into the microphone. The crowd went wild, cheering and whistling and stomping their feet.

“My name is Mabel Pines, and this is my twin Dipper! And we are here to make sure that you have a great time!”

For the next two hours, pure magic happened. Mabel was definitely the showman of the duo - always grinning, always talking to the crowd and hyping them up, and always ready to beat up Dipper. Finally, after making the chainsaw that had been used to saw her brother in half vanish in hammerspace, she announced, “Alright, folks, for our last trick of the night, we are bringing out the big guns! Hold on to your rears!”

With a puff of smoke, an honest-to-God cannon appeared out of nowhere. It was, surprise surprise, painted blue, with red flames on the side. The mouth of the barrel was pointing at the left wall of the stage. Dipper snapped his fingers, and the fuse was lit, slowly burning away. He resignedly climbed into the opening. Mabel put a helmet on his head and brought the microphone to his mouth. “Any last words, bro-bro?”

Dipper, deadpan in his only sentence of the night, said, “I hate this part.”

BOOM!

Pacifica was blinded for a second. When the smoke cleared, there was a vaguely human-shaped hole in the left wall. Light shone in from the outside, probably generating from the moon. The crowd was silent, jaws agape in astonishment. Finally someone said what everyone was thinking - “Uh, is he dead?”

Mabel grinned. “Fortunately for our legal team, and unfortunately for me…” She gestured, and a man came out of the front row - it was Dipper, alive, well, and unimpressed.

The crowd burst into applause, and over the top of the noise, Mabel yelled, “Thank you, Gravity Falls! Have a good night!” With a puff of smoke - the final one for the night - Mabel and Dipper Pines disappeared.

A loudspeaker-like crackle came from the ceiling above. A voice that sounded like an old man who had no idea that he was on a loudspeaker loudly shouted, “THE GIFT SHOP IS TO THE LEFT! NO PUSHING, SHOVING OR STABBING! CRAZY LAZY SUSAN IS NOT ALLOWED!”

“You’ll never take me alive!” an old woman shouted, then bolted.

As the Gleefuls and Northwest left the tent and made their way to the car, Bud and Pacifica couldn’t stop gibbering about how amazing the show had been. Pacifica noticed that Gideon was being quiet, and nudged him, noticing the starstuck look in his eyes and the wistful smile on his face. “You good, Gid?”

“What? Me? Yeah, I’m good. Better than good. Well, not that much better than good, but I’m not doing bad-” he babbled. Pacifica was a little freaked out, but Bud knew his kid.

As they got into the car, Bud casually said, “Say, Gideon, that Mabel girl, she goes to your school, right?”

If Gideon turned any more red, he was going to start smashing through walls, yelling “OH YEAH!” As it was, he managed to squeak, “Yeah.”

“She’s kinda cute, right?”

“Yeah, a-a little.”

Pacifica watched this like she was watching a tennis match, flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of them. She thought it was kind of cute. “Is she nice?” she asked.

“Nicer than her brother,” Gideon replied darkly. “She usually has to tell him to lay off. I think she might be the saner one.”

“Shame,” Pacifica said. “He looked cute.”

The car sped home, and Pacifica didn’t see the gnome run out in front of them. Bud did, and with copious amounts of swearing, braked and sent them all forward. Gideon smacked his head on the console and came back up with a bright red mark on his forehead.

“Gnomes?” he asked, dazed. 

Bud pulled into the driveway, and before the car stopped rolling, he was already out. “THOSE BASTARDS TP’D OUR HOUSE!” he boomed, and ran into the garage, picked up a golf club, and ran into the forest, yelling. About a dozen miniature voices squealed.

“Well,” Gideon said, gesturing at the house, now covered in white strips of toilet paper. “Welcome to Gravity Falls.”

Pacifica started to laugh.

_ Welcome to Gravity Falls, indeed. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this marks the end of the first interlude. Onto the main story! Song is "Cold Cold Cold" by Cage the Elephant (which is a really weird band name, you gotta admit). Also, shoutout to Barbacar on FanFiction.net for the great idea of a cannon.


End file.
